


Playtime

by Akaiba



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Anal Beads, Anal Fingering, Anal Play, Anal Plug, Anal Sex, BDSM, Comeplay, Dom/sub, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Safewords, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-15
Updated: 2015-10-15
Packaged: 2018-04-26 12:21:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5004628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akaiba/pseuds/Akaiba
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For a scorchingly hot piece of art by the lovely Cyanopsis which can be seen here: http://cyanopsis.tumblr.com/post/129456507707</p>
            </blockquote>





	Playtime

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cyanopsis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cyanopsis/gifts).



There’s a fundamental flaw in the game they're playing, one that Anders is quick to point out when he can speak and Fenris isn’t teasingly pushing his finger deep into Anders like he even needs the preparation after being so thoroughly toyed with. He knows the elf is just doing it to feel him, such a fixation on playing with Anders until he’s begging to be left alone that it borders on- no, it definitely is deviancy.

“Is that you forfeiting?”

“Never.”

And thus; Anders cannot plead he did not want every agonising moment of this.

Fenris smirks like he’s been given permission to slaughter Danarius all over again. It is not a very reassuring smile but Anders cannot see it so it is forgiven.

There’s a fine line between two very different moments of Anders, moments that Fenris enjoys equally.

The writhing and babbling Anders, who spouts whatever fanciful, and always sizzlingly filthy, thoughts and pleas that cross his mind is, admittedly, a very pleasant Anders. The blissed out panting wreck of a man who cannot grasp at his own name let alone move or speak at all is not a bad Anders either. 

Between them both, on the cusp of release and torn between never wanting it to end and desperate for Fenris to give him what he has been begging for, is an Anders that Fenris delights when he glimpses.

This Anders writhes and pleas only in breath and body. Words are a distant memory as he can only twitch and jerk and barely even participate in what is being done to him. 

Fenris has found a way to see more of that delightful Anders. 

Orlesians, he notes as he pushes his finger slowly into Anders, are devious and far more sinful than even Antivans. At least Antivans are fairly upfront about things, Orlesians have a plethora of things that Fenris had to discover quite by accident. 

The cock ring is his favourite. Enchanted,of all things, and the way it had hummed and tingled on his finger and the way Anders was panting like he might never catch his breath painted a fairly clear idea of what the trinket was doing. Truly, Fenris almost wanted to try the thing himself…

Another time. 

Anders has his face pressed into the bed and he’s clinging fitfully to the sheets with what coordination he can manage, his arse raised in supplicated offering for Fenris to do as he wills. And he has. Anders’ rear is one of his favourite parts of the mage and he has rarely been able to indulge as thoroughly as this. 

The spanking had been fun, more gentle than he might have so that Anders wouldn’t be too sore for more. The paddle had allowed him to strike the whole of Anders rear and watch it bounce with each hit, the ripple of his pert flesh at his whined and cried out… Fenris has plans for that paddle on another night. 

The fingers he had teased the man with after were almost tame in comparison, their familiarity with the act making it no less enjoyable for how raptly Fenris watched the mage come undone as his hole was stretched and teased with.

The string of beads that had perplexed him at first until the leering salesman explained their purpose had been next. Each brightly coloured bead had been pressed into Anders until only the pretty ring hung from his clenched hole.

Oh, how Anders had trembled and quaked- the devoted, pleading nonsense that tumbled from his mouth as Fenris made him stand from the bed and take a turn around it. Each step shifted the beads and Anders was wailing as Fenris bade him to kneel and easier each bead free. His pretty little mage had fallen to his hands on the floor and begged for the ring to come off.

Fenris had told him no.

It had been Anders who explained the concept of watchwords. In principle it was logical but he was taking it slow anyway, gently building to each toy until he had no doubt in his mind that Anders was enjoying himself. 

“Do you remember your watchword?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want to stop?”

“…no.”

And so the game had continued.

Ropes and a pretty new gag that Anders seemed to forget he no longer had, wordless moans and cries that tumbled from him after it was removed and Fenris could only wrangle a ‘yes’ when he asked if Anders remembered his watchword again. 

And now; this.

One finger pushing into Anders at infuriating leisure, tugging at the stretched, slick rim of him until he was shaking. Anders felt it alright, but it did not fill him.

It did not press into him how he wailed for and he could do nothing about it. Fenris’ will was like silverite- forged in fire and immovable. As pretty a picture as he made, Fenris would not be moved to end this yet.

The finger leaves and Anders hiccups in a breath as loss wars with anticipation that he might cum now. 

He screams as the cock slams into him. He’s loose enough it’s simply a long press of pressure and everything he had pleaded for but he’s so sensitive the sudden spread of being achingly empty to stuffed full has him sobbing into the bedding.

Anders tries to say ‘please’ but Fenris doesn’t pause- he thrusts hard and fast with little thought to rhythm and Anders is practically bouncing on his cock. Anders can only cry out and sob between thrusts, so much pleasure so suddenly and he’s gone from slowly coiling pleasure that had him trembling to incoherent agony of burning pleasure like nails under his skin. It is too much and he can do nothing but be used by Fenris. He is bent to the elf’s will and desire and Fenris fucks him with abandon. It is frying his mind to have Fenris doing this to him, the game gone on too long to have him anything but at Fenris’ whim and eager to be taken in such a way that he is being claimed- he is being possessed. No pun intended, Justice doesn’t even stir at that thought. There is a lyrium lined cock within them- Justice is far too distracted.

A hand snares in his hair and tugs his head up, Fenris’ thrusts getting shorter, harder as his hips slam into the swell of his abused rear and Anders chokes on his cries. “Beg me for it.”

“Please!” Anders shrieks, nails raking across the bedding and cock weeping urgently between his legs. 

“No.” Fenris snarls, Anders sobbing hysterically as the elf cums within him.

The game is not over. 

Anders slumps against the bed as Fenris slips free of him, his body is a shuddering wreck as the elf lets him curl with his arse still raised. He is babbling in need and Fenris watches for a long moment until he can speak without gasping.

There is one toy he has yet to play with and it is that which he grasps eagerly from the bedside.

“Do you remember your watchword?”

Anders whimpers.

“Anders.”

“Yes…” He croaks, the word dragged out of him like he can’t quite remember how language works. “Please…” He adds.

“Do you want to continue?”

Anders muffles a sob into the bed and Fenris presses his thumb to the rim of Anders well-fucked hole. It parts easily, a dribble of cum swelling to drip from him as Anders keens. 

“Speak, Anders.” 

“Yes! Yes, yes, yes…”

The salesman had chuckled that he might be selecting a too large one for his lover. Fenris had merely raised an eyebrow, the man could not know how Anders enjoyed being so filled and he would never know. Only Fenris would know this.

The plug is a hefty size in his palm. It manages to offer resistance against Anders’ body and the mage is moaning loudly at the stretch of it’s flared head against his hole, Fenris unrelenting as the swell of it breeches and Anders body swallows it snugly into place, the rim of it decorated with carved flowers as Anders’ hole fastens to the inset base to leave it visible.

“Fen… too big…” Anders hiccups, shaking his head as his shoulders shift and shudder, tipping to his side and crying out as the plug moves within him. He’s obscenely slick with Fenris’ cum and the plug jerks happily in the mess with each twitch of his body. 

“Is that you forfeiting?” Fenris repeats.

Anders glares at him, curled on his side as he scowls. “No.” He insists.

Fenris smirks and this time Anders can see it; feral and monstrous and far more erotic than it has any right to be but that probably says more about Anders than Fenris. “Then you should get dressed. Hawke will be here soon.”

Fenris slips languidly from the bed, tugging his leggings up from where he had barely lowered them as Anders’ glare darkens further but he daren’t move yet as his body trembles. His cock is an angry, heavy weight against his thigh that he doesn’t so much as look at for how he aches with how he has been denied.

“I will win, elf.”

Fenris chuckles as he tugs on his shirt. “We shall see.”

And of course when Hawke cheerful arrives, barely noticing how Anders is clinging to his staff to keep upright, it is to announce that their trip out must go up Sundermount now.

Fenris smirks again and Anders privately admits that maybe, just maybe… he might not win this.

**Author's Note:**

> My tumblr: akaiba.tumblr.com


End file.
